


walk walk fashion baby

by aestheticisms (R_Vienna)



Category: 999: Nine Hours Nine Persons Nine Doors - Fandom, Zero Escape: Virtue's Last Reward - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, F/M, Gen, Zecret Santa 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:06:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2830925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Vienna/pseuds/aestheticisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akane Kurashiki runs the most hectic modeling agency in the district, and Junpei Tenmyouji is absolutely no help. Sigma Klim wonders how it ended up like this, it was only a kiss, it was only a kiss. </p><p>For Zecret Santa 2014!</p>
            </blockquote>





	walk walk fashion baby

**walk walk fashion baby**

(Akane Kurashiki runs the most hectic modeling agency in the district, and Junpei Tenmyouji is absolutely no help.)

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“I mean, you’re already a well known member of this corner of society. Why restrict yourself to working for other people when you can be working for me?”

Sigma Klim, he narrows his kaleidoscope gaze (something blue, something pink, sometimes both and neither and all of the above) and sets his perfectly chiseled jaw, looks to the side. No, he wasn’t going to give himself up willingly, not so easily. Maybe, there was something in it for him? Something better? He runs a hand through his dark hair, and leans forward, finally, interested in what the Wicked Witch of the East had to say about his transferal. It was set in stone, everyone knew, that Sigma would leave the Cat’s Cradle, a powerhouse in the fashion realm, and join Crash Keys for their first independent show.

It was only a matter of dragging out the process to the point where Akane Kurashiki would give Sigma a raise, and better perks than the rest of the models already signed onto her company.

“Don’t think about it too much, Sigma.”

Aoi Kurashiki’s sarcastic lilt invades the premises, the white-haired bastard who kept sniping Sigma’s photoshoots, he waltzes in like he owns the place (he kind of does) and takes a seat next to his younger sister. Akane is the picture of piety in that moment, a saint reborn, next to her demon of an older brother.

It’s in appearance only, and in appearance alone--everyone know what the witch was capable of. Akane crosses her legs at the knees, careful to smooth out her black pencil skirt, and then pick at her pressed blouse, it’s violet today, the color is rich and gorgeous and it brings out the flecks of silver in her dark eyes. She tucks a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, and then, ah yes, the trump card, Aoi shows her a black leather briefcase, and he places it on the oak table separating Sigma and the Kurashiki siblings.

Akane opens it in the most dramatic manner she can achieve without looking absolutely ridiculous and Sigma’s ready to snap at her, to hurry it up, that he had places to be, political marriages to ruin, bank robberies to conduct--

“You might be interested in our newest recruit.”

She slides a glossy eight by ten across the table, and Sigma’s eyes go wide.

Ah, yes, that's his signature, Akane can see why now. His eyes are quite beautiful. She likes getting that surprised, vilified, reaction out of him.

“Luna.” he says, and with that, Akane finally allows herself to smile. The brightest smile she’s ever smiled! She picks up the briefcase and rises from her chair, and makes her way to the office door.

“I’m very excited to work with you, Mr. Klim.”

And that’s them breaks.

Aoi winks, and Sigma sticks out his tongue before looking back at the headshot in his hand, for Luna, _The Luna_ , to end up here of all places, it couldn’t be a coincidence. The Brotherhood treated her badly, awfully, it was all over the news, a beautiful bluebird in a gilded cage. And now she was here, working for one of the most dangerous duos in the industry.

Luna was a Molotov cocktail, complex and confounding and ready to combust, and Sigma Klim, he knew a lot about chemical reactions and he didn’t like this one bit. He scratches the back of his head, and Aoi hovers over his shoulder.

“Ex-girlfriend?” He asks, obviously amused.

“No, actually. Just a very good friend.” He doesn’t add, that they started modeling together, a couple years back, booked the same shows and shoots, got a cover spread that amazed and awed. They were gods back then. The beauty and the beast, or at the very least, the idea of it. Luna was beautiful, but homely, an unkempt kind of girl with doe eyes and freckled skin and light orange hair, photographers loved her, the people fawned over her, the designers begged for her cooperation, and all she would do is smile benignly, and tilt her head to the side, ever so slightly, pieces of wavy hair fall out of her braided bun and frame her doll-like face, oh, all she had to do was that and the people went wild.

“Akane’s got an eye on her, she’s read up all about how shitty things were back at the Valentino show--”

The Valentino show was hell incarnate, Sigma knew. He was there. He got fired from Cradle that night.

Luna, though, she had it worse.

“--and we wanted to help her. She was so happy, it was like seeing the sun. Haha.” Aoi lifts his arms up and stretches out, the starched shirt and black slacks don’t fit him, no, they don't fit him like a trashy tanktop would. Sigma smirks. Aoi Kurashiki playing businessman was the funniest thing.

“Right. Okay.”

Sigma gives the picture back to Aoi, and the man shrugs a little bit, after taking the paper. He waves when Sigma finally leaves, following Akane out of the wing and into the main studio. Crash Keys' main base was a sprawling maze, and Sigma wouldn’t be surprised if the place was used for a game of some sorts, maybe hide and seek. It would be the perfect venue with its three stories and weird setup, some of the rooms looked like they belonged in the stern of a luxury passenger ship.

"Mr. Klim?”

“Just Sigma is fine. Mr. Klim is my father.” Sigma further proves his point by gagging, and Akane lets out a sigh, and pinches the bridge of her nose. He’s finally caught up to her, and he’s surprised that she’s not one of the models, with those legs, god, they go on for miles, and that face, it was an easy choice. She would go well with Marc Jacobs, or Kate Spade, no nonsense brands with nice purses, a cover model in a field of daisies, yeah, that was the kind of concrete, urban fantasy Akane Kurashiki was a slave to.

But she was so...tiny. Eugh. Maybe it would be for the best of his continued existence if he didn’t bring it up. Sigma towered over Akane, she was five four, maybe five three to his solid six feet.

“So……. ?”

“So?”

Akane arches a brow and pushes the studio doors open, and they’re welcomed by a whirr of excitement and noise, Sigma has to shield his eyes with a raised hand, there’s a woman behind the camera, she’s glowing underneath the fluorescent lights and flashing lightbulbs her dark blue hair, it’s the color of raven feathers.

“Lotus!” Akane slips from cold and ruthless negotiator to warm and sweet (but still very, very reserved), and the woman, she puts a ringed hand on her jutted hip, her seafoam dress is stylish, the jacket thrown over it even moreso, Sigma is stunned. She’s absolutely chic, he swears he’s seen her pictures somewhere, maybe if he thinks about it a little more, he’ll remember. Then, a silent prayer she wasn’t in one of the pages of a magazine stuffed under his mattress during his high school days. That would be unfavorable.

Lotus kisses Akane’s cheeks, a one and a two, and points her chin towards her guinea pig, she’s already talking in a rapid fire alto, about how their model needed this and that, and that the prints should be ready by the next day, and how much coding the website was taking up and blah blah blah blah, Sigma tunes her out with ease and the model in question, she’s all scowls and crossed arms over (flat) chest, Sigma winks at her and she flips him off without missing a beat.

“Already making friends, Clover?” Aoi comes out from who knows where, and Clover, she scoffs, and rolls her eyes.

“Shut up. I’m only here because my brother asked me to.”

“A lot of us are, sweetie.”

She turns on her heel and Sigma flinches, her bubblegum pink hair fans out like she’s been waiting for this moment her entire life, she points a manicured nail at Aoi’s throat, and stares him down. Aoi Kurashiki raises his hands up in defense, and Clover makes him walk the metaphorical plank, until his back’s to the exit door.

“I swear to _god_ Santa, you come near my brother again, and I’ll cut you.”

“Point taken.” Aoi? Santa?, he disappears behind the double doors and Sigma turns back towards Akane and Lotus, who were watching from their safe distance, laughing behind open palms with painted lips.

Dear god.

“And that’s Clover, obviously, she’s kind of a mixed bag--” This is met with a hiss of disapproval, Clover pouts and looks away from Lotus’s analysis, as if that would help the words stop stinging. “--but she’s one of our best. People love the look, she’s from Japan, like most of us. Popularized the Harajuku look before Gwen Stefani bastardized it.” Lotus laughs, and shrugs off her jacket, handing it to some waiting assistant, she turns towards her camera, in its beautiful tripod, and makes a noise of discontent.

“These are awful, let’s try it again. Clover, ready for round two?”

“I guess.”

Akane motions to Sigma, for him to come closer, and he follows. She's showing him around now, the different lights, the different sets, she introduces him to the cast and crew of the biggest media circus of the year. Akane is poised and graceful, but Sigma thinks it’s all very practiced, and all very fake--he knows actresses very, _very_ well, and Akane was no different. She held her head high, and kept things at arm’s length.

“And that’s that. You’ll be shooting with Snake, er, Light, tomorrow. He's a charmer, really, try not to get swept away by his demeanor.”

Sigma looks at her plainly, expecting an explanation. She does not give one. Instead, Akane keeps walking, so he keeps following, he shoves his hands into his leather jacket pockets and resigns himself to her silence.

“Kaaaaaaaanny!”

Akane’s face pales considerably, and at a rate that Sigma didn’t think was humanly possible. The woman turns around, and looks past him, she shouts, _Mo_ _ve!_ so he does, he complies immediately and avoids being rundown by the most excitable man he’s had the pleasure of almost getting killed by.

“Jumpy--”

Akane stops herself, and Sigma lets out a disbelieving snort.

"Junpei,” she settles on, Junpei throws his arms around her waist, he presses his nose against the crook of her neck and rests his chin on her shoulder after he’s done planting kisses on whatever skin isn’t covered by her crisp blouse. Akane’s obviously stricken, and she’s trying her hardest to stay composed, and Sigma, god, all of this is just so _damn_ _hilarious_ because seeing the iciest ice queen melt in the course of two seconds, because of a boy who was sunshine and puppy dogs personified, god, _that_ was _hilarious_.

Sigma can’t stop laughing and Akane gives him a sharp look, before clearing his throat. Junpei, he laughs, and looking at him again, Sigma wonders what his role in this agency is, because the vest-jacket-hoodie-flannel-shirt-tank top six-layer fresh hell he was currently wearing screamed _scrub_ _scrub_ _scrub_.

“I brought back the numbers you wanted, and I finished working on the finances for this month, we’re in the clear for a couple of weeks, but I’ll be keeping you updated on that.” From affectionate to professional in even a shorter span of time, Sigma’s impressed by the team Akane’s got at her beck and call. Her hand’s in his, and Junpei looks absolutely delighted, he swings it high and low while he rattles off some important numbers and updates her on the current status of their upcoming show. When he’s finally done, he takes a moment to catch his breath, and then sneak a peek at his red watch, something bulky and bizarre and _industrial_ , Sigma’s never seen something like that.

“Shit! Sorry Kanny, I better, get going. I’ll see you later, and then we can discuss our plans.” An eyebrow waggle, and then he finally acknowledges Sigma’s existence.

“Oh.”

Sigma gives him a little wave. Junpei gasps.

“You!”

“Me?”

“Yes!” Junpei’s eyes are bright, and Sigma’s trying to remember where he’s seen this guy, because he’s pretty sure that he would remember someone who dressed as badly as this dude. “You’re the one who stopped traffic over a cat!”

Sigma pales faster than Akane did, now it’s her turn to snort. She covers her mouth with a gloved hand, and can’t help herself, the laughter comes out in peals, and Sigma’s ears burn red.

“God, Kanny, you don’t even know the entire story. This guy, right, he just breaks out into some really loud _meow_ , _meow_ , _meooooows_!!!, and crouches down to beg for some cat’s attention, and then, he starts to talk to it.”

Sigma really, really wishes that the earth would swallow him whole right about now. He didn’t even need this job. Luna would be fine on her own. these guys would take care of her. He could just disappear, into the earth’s crust, somewhere underneath the mantle, and finally, burn to a crisp. The ultimate incinerator for bad experiences. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

“So he just, goes, oh, you’re just _pawfully_ cute, _purrrrfectly_ adorable,” and that’s enough from Junpei, sigma suckerpunches the nerd so fast that no one has time to react, until Junpei buckles like a badly made house of cards, and hits the floor in agony.

“Sigma, please.”

Akane crosses her arms over her chest and Sigma panics.

“Sorry! First instinct of self defense!”

Akane sighs and bends down to help Junpei back on his feet, and she throws his arm around her shoulder, she will be his support until they can get him to a chair, or something.

“Well, tour’s over. Luna’s on the third floor, she’s getting fitted. You should probably go talk to her, I've delayed you enough.”

And with that, Akane and Junpei limp to the nearest lounge, and Sigma watches them go, bickering like a married couple, Junpei's making elaborate and grand gestures, he’s spinning a story larger than life and Akane nods, completely riveted by his claims, violet eyes twinkling.

There’s something big there, and Sigma feels awkward watching. They play off each other so well, it kind of makes him sick. Well. Time to find the girl of the hour.

.

.

.

 

The third floor is actually accessible only by elevator, and Sigma taps his fingers against the silver plated railing. It’s been a long day. His phone’s a mess, he’s got seventy-two text messages from his flatmate, Phi, and she’s nagging about rent, and then about the “just as hideous as the backside of a shaven rat” of a palm tree in his room (whatever that meant), then a message about the fact she took his credit card and went out on an interior decorating shopping trip, and that he would thank her later when she installed a minibar and a cool living room.

This is why Sigma wasn’t allowed to have nice things.

The fitting room is a huge oval room, with floor to ceiling mirrors on every wall, and the girls flitting about Luna yell at Sigma for letting himself in, but Luna, beautiful and gracious and wonderful, _perfect_ Luna, she smiles sweetly and tells them it’s fine, no need to worry about him. He was a contained nuisance, and wouldn't be a bother during the fitting period.

She says this all so pleasantly that Sigma can’t even feel offended.

The girls ask him to avert his gaze until they are done making magic, and to that, he admits defeat, and waits outside the warm room with the flashing lights and elevated stage and racks filled with designer threads.

Sigma calls Phi back, has a screaming match with Phi, hangs up on Phi, and then plays a shitty mobile game until one of the designers pops her head out, her dark eyes narrowed and made up with electric blue eyeliner.

“You’re Sigma, right?”

He nods slowly. “Alice. Nice to see you, again.”

Alice grimaces. “It was a sloppy one night stand, don’t remind me. Come on in. Luna’s waiting. She’s particularly excited about this, for some reason.” The woman is intimidating and even colder than Akane, but Sigma knew a thing or two about one of the most accoladed designers in the city. Alice was an enigma, with a multiple choice past, and her affair with Crash Keys wasn’t a coincidence

God.

Everyone Sigma knew was suddenly popping up next to the root of all evil, and it was kind of terrifying. Sort of. A little. Whatever.

Luna’s standing on the platform with her hands clasped against her chest, her blue, blue eyes lidded, she’s in a position of prayer and Sigma’s left catching his breath.

“Luna’s our closing number, she’s wearing a Zuhair Murad. Her choice, of course. We pride ourselves on allowing our models to choose how to wrap up the show.” Alice drops her voice to a whisper, “Of course, she wanted something completely different from what she wore for Brother. No blacks, no reds, and absolutely no Valentino.”

Luna does her twirl, Sigma’s mesmerized by the flow and the form of the fabric, it’s a floor length gown made of lavender chiffon with an embroidered bust, a sleeveless affair that clings to her skin like black magic and smoke, and Luna, when she walks, the earth moves with her. Two silver leaves twist and turn and cinch at her waist, and her hair is the new garden of Eden, with flowers and laurels and the tiniest of bluebirds, in mid flight, about to escape into the sky.

Her freckles dominate the skinscape, her eyes are brighter than the sea, and god, Sigma’s never been so thrown back by something in his fleeting life.

“You’re beautiful.” he says, finally, when the air’s electric and Luna looks at him with one of those doe eyed expressions that make his heart beat against his chest.

She smiles.

“Thank you, Sigma. You look rather nice yourself!”

He rolls his eyes, and takes her offered hand, and he feels like he’s keeping her tethered to this reality, somewhere where fairy folklore didn’t run rampant and didn’t beg for their new queen to make her debut. If Akane was the gritty grossness of the human race, Luna was the before, the ancient beyond, what was left in the forests and river crossings, the anchor of the fantasy that demanded to be heard.

Alice clears her throat.

“Anyway. Sigma, thanks for playing, but we have to run some photo tests for the press release. Don't let the door hit you on your way out, say your goodbyes, we have things to do.” She gives him a pointed look, and Sigma nods.

“We need to talk after, got things to talk about.”

Luna’s smile dims, just enough for him to notice. “Of course.”

With that, Sigma nods and starts to make his way out.

“Sigma?”

He stops.

“You don’t have to worry about me, you know? I can take care of myself. What happened with Brother is in the past, and I’m a lot better now.”

Sigma turns to look at her, and yeah. He knows. Luna’s stronger than most. She’s a fighter, determined to meet the end with a smile and without a single word of compromise. He gives her a grin.

“I don’t doubt it for a minute.”

Luna waves, and he ducks behind the doors, back into hallway.

 

**Author's Note:**

> im a sucker 4 fashion aus whoops
> 
> written for zecret santa 2014, my zs was choco-maize! all of their prompts were lots of fun, and could be written in the same fic, so i kind of just went at it + had lots of fun w/ it 
> 
> i hope you like it, and happy holidays!!!!!!!!!!


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